


lived a good life

by chaoticautumn



Category: South Park
Genre: Animal Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, honestly im just dealing w some shit and this is how i cope, its minor dw this is just comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 15:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticautumn/pseuds/chaoticautumn
Summary: Kyle's used to Cartman being in his room at odd times, but this time seems... off.





	lived a good life

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about the shitty title i couldn't come up with anything else

Kyle’s used to waking up in the middle of the night. Sometimes he has nightmares and wakes up in a panic, or sometimes he simply can’t sleep. This time, however, it was because of a sudden weight at the end of his bed that wasn’t supposed to be there.

Kyle sat up, rubbing at his bleary eyes to clear his vision and glare at what decided to sit at the edge of his bed and wake him up. Probably Ike. Poor kid also got nightmares. But this didn’t feel like Ike.

Kyle squinted at the vaguely familiar figure kneeling on his bed, his eyes trying to adjust for the dim moonlight filtering through his window. What the fuck- Was that…?

“What’re you doing here,” Kyle deadpanned, glaring at the hunched over figure of Eric Cartman.

Kyle was also used to Cartman breaking into his room at odd times, used to it enough that he wasn’t anxious or scared when he recognized the shape of Cartman rummaging through one of his drawers for something unknown. Kyle never let him stick around long enough to get a straight answer out of him.

But this time. This time seemed different.

Cartman still hadn’t responded to Kyle, hadn’t even looked up from his lap. His chestnut bangs fanned out across his face, keeping his expression obscured, and his unbuttoned jacket hung loosely off his pajamas. He looked like he’d rushed out of his house, which was… strange, to say the least. Even more strange seeing as he came to Kyle’s room instead of literally anywhere else.

“Uh… Cartman?” Kyle prompted again.

And again, no answer.

Kyle sighed and shook his head, trying to fight off the wave of exhaustion that flooded through him. It was way too damn late to be dealing with Cartman’s antics, but to be completely honest, Kyle did not trust Cartman near him while Kyle was alone and asleep.

Just as Kyle was seriously contemplating going against the voice screaming in his head telling him to not go back to sleep around Cartman, the brunette finally spoke.

“She’s gone,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible.

Kyle paused at that. Who was ‘she?’ And why was Cartman here to tell him about it? Kyle wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, but he did know that it would bother him if he didn’t ask. 

“Um… Who are you-”

“Mr. Kitty,” came the immediate answer, cutting him off mid-question.

“Oh,” was the only thing Kyle could say in response. He knew Cartman loved his cat, he’d had her since he was five. Mr. Kitty had probably witnessed more emotion from Cartman than Cartman would ever show another human being. Kyle had seen, firsthand, the way Cartman would talk to his cat, usually without Cartman knowing he was there. And the fact she was gone was… shocking.

“Cartman, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, watching as Cartman scrubbed his face with the sleeve of his jacket in frustration. Kyle didn’t know what else to say.

“I thought she was doing better,” Cartman gave a quiet, shaky laugh and finally looked up to meet Kyle’s eyes, and Kyle’s heart sunk. Cartman’s usually brilliant golden eyes were bloodshot and dead, his face blotchy and red, probably from crying, Kyle guessed.

Cartman continued, oblivious to Kyle’s thoughts. “She’s- She was really sick, but I thought she would get better. I thought she was getting better. She was actually up from her bed and walking around and she was asleep next to me when I fell asleep but I woke up and she wasn’t moving or breathing and-” Cartman voice cracked and a small, barely repressed sob fell from his lips before he pressed a hand to his mouth, and Kyle felt the familiar snake of pity coil around his heart as tears shone in the moonlight.

Kyle didn’t really know what to do. It was already rare enough for Cartman to show actual feeling, to show that he wasn’t completely soulless instead of the hysterical crocodile tears he’d put on for show. There was a part of Kyle telling him this was just a trick, something Cartman wanted to do to laugh at Kyle later, but Cartman never showed feeling this amplified if he wanted to get something. Kyle didn’t even remember the last time he’d seen it for himself.

Kyle uncertainly shifted forwards and set his hand on Cartman’s shoulder on impulse, ignoring how Cartman flinched when Kyle touched him. “I really am sorry, Cartman,” he said, voice as soft as he could make it. Another sob escaped past Cartman’s hand and Kyle watched helplessly as Cartman pulled his knees to his chest.

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Cartman muttered after a short bit, just loud enough for Kyle to hear. “You never liked her.”

Kyle hesitated. It was true he wasn’t Mr. Kitty’s biggest fan, but… “I saw how you acted around her, dude,” Kyle said quietly. “I know you cared about her, and that’s enough for me to be sorry she’s… y’know." Cartman didn’t respond, just sniffled quietly to himself, and Kyle awkwardly took back his hand.

A long minute of silence filled with nothing but Cartman’s stifled crying passed, neither boy knowing what to say.

Eventually, Kyle glanced at the clock next to his bed and blinked when he realized how late it really was. Jesus Christ, how long had Cartman been here for? Kyle glanced back at the brunette, unsure if he should say something or not. He knew enough about Cartman to know he hated talking in this state, that words made everything just a little more real.

“Hey, uh, Cartman,” Kyle finally started. Cartman glanced at him apprehensively, almost like he was scared of what Kyle was going to say. “It’s getting really late, dude, and I don’t think you should walk back home like…” Kyle gestured at Cartman blankly, not having the words to describe it. Cartman didn’t answer. “Do you want to, like, stay here for the night?” Kyle asked slowly and awkwardly, unsure on how Cartman would reply to this. The two’s rivalry was infamous, and having an impromptu sleepover-type-thing because one of them was emotionally vulnerable was blatantly out of character for them, completely unheard of. Kyle had done this sort of thing with Stan more times than he could count, and occasionally with Kenny, but never with Cartman.

Cartman hesitated, looking skeptical, and Kyle was worried he was going to say no. Cartman was in no shape to be alone in his house at this time - he was destructive, and Kyle didn’t really want to see the results of that. But Cartman was already nodding wordlessly, so Kyle gave him as much of a reassuring smile as he could, then shifted over so he was against the wall, pulling back the sheets of his bed so Cartman could slip in next to him. Cartman just stared at the empty space before glancing back up at Kyle. 

Kyle could see a hint of nervousness in Cartman’s golden eyes, seemingly just at the prospect of being that close to Kyle. “It’s fine, dude,” Kyle tried to reassure. “I promise.” If his mother tried to berate him with questions in the morning about why he was sleeping in the same bed as Eric Cartman, so be it. Cartman needed some form of comfort, and this was the best Kyle could give him.

Cartman hesitated a few more seconds before slipping off his jacket, tossing it haphazardly somewhere in Kyle’s room, and crawling into the space next to Kyle. Kyle pulled the sheets over them, watching as Cartman curled up on the mattress where Kyle was a minute before, his back facing Kyle. Kyle laid back down, his own back to Cartman’s, barely brushing against him. He didn’t close his eyes, though, keeping them focused on his navy blue wall, almost black in the darkness, listening to the muffled sobs from behind him.

Eventually, Kyle shifted his body, turning onto his other side. His eyes had focused enough in the dim lighting for him to make out the trembling of Cartman’s shoulders. Kyle’s lips twisted into a grimace. He hated seeing Cartman like this. Kyle was used to fury and hatred from Cartman, sometimes hurt, but not this, and he hated seeing it. It was never like this.

Kyle lightly touched Cartman’s shoulder, but froze when the crying halted. Cartman’s raspy, quiet voice made itself heard.

“What.” That word was so small and full of pain that the snake of sympathy managed to coil even tighter around Kyle’s chest, if that was even possible.

“Turn over,” Kyle said softly. Cartman paused for a few long seconds, but finally rolled over so he was facing Kyle. His eyes were directed at Kyle’s chest, refusing to make eye contact with Kyle. Kyle gazed at him silently for a moment, then slipped his arms around Cartman and pulled them closer together. He rested his head on top of Cartman’s soft brown hair as Cartman stiffened against him, but only momentarily did Cartman freeze. He soon burrowed into the familiarity of Kyle, curling into Kyle’s chest as the redhead traced invisible patterns across his back. 

“I miss her,” came the mumbled confession that Kyle almost missed. Kyle hummed a quiet response as soft crying shook through Cartman’s body again, letting Cartman know he was still listening. He was sure in the morning he’d have drool and snot and tears stained into his shirt, but right now, that didn’t matter. 

Cartman’s crying eventually calmed down what felt like hours later, but Kyle still held onto him, and Cartman didn’t try to pull away. Cartman’s arms had wrapped around Kyle’s waist sometime earlier, his fists were tightly balled into Kyle’s shirt as if he were afraid Kyle was going to realize what was happening and move away. Over time his hands had loosened, but Kyle could still feel them against his back, paired with the weight of Cartman’s arm on his waist.

Kyle could feel Cartman’s heavy breathing slow into deep breaths the longer they laid there, and when he glanced down, the brunette didn’t give any form of response. “Cartman,” he quietly tested, but Cartman still didn’t answer. Kyle sighed through his nose, his breath ruffling Cartman’s hair, then shifted so he was more comfortable against the brunette, relaxed, and closed his eyes.


End file.
